Passion's Song. Farrah RochonЧитать онлайн книгу.
was too entertaining to bring it to an end.
And to Damien’s surprise he was watching her with more interest than he ever remembered watching his friend before. She wore soft yellow capri pants that hit just past her calves, a smart choice on this warm day. She probably had the heat and humidity in mind when she chose to pair it with the white sleeveless button-down blouse, but Damien thought it was the right choice for an entirely different reason.
He studied the way she moved, her toned arms slicing the air as she directed the young musicians. Years of playing the cello had added definition to her muscles, which still managed to look delicate underneath her smooth skin. Her warm brown complexion looked radiant despite the harsh fluorescent lighting above. Her shoulder-length hair had been swept up in a messy bun atop her head, accenting those cheekbones that had always been her most standout feature.
Although, to be honest, everything about her seemed to stand out to him today.
April finally brought the class to an end, instructing the students to properly stow their instruments so that they would be ready for the next class. Once all students had vacated the room, she came up to Damien and wrapped him up in a big hug.
“Long time no see,” she said.
Damien returned the hug, discovering that the toned muscles applied to more than just her arms. That delicate thing she had going on was definitely a facade.
“Thanks for making time for me today,” Damien returned.
“Of course,” April said. “So, how has it been going, Mr. Bachelor of the Year?”
Damien’s head fell back as he released a strained breath. “Please, don’t start.” He looked at her again, one brow pitched upward. “And it isn’t Bachelor of the Year.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re just one of New Orleans’s top ten bachelors. My bad.”
“Are you finished?” Damien asked. “Or do you want to rub this in just a little more? It’s okay, I can handle anything you dish out.”
“Aw,” April said. “Been a rough one, has it? Okay,” she said, “I promise no more bachelor jokes for the next hour.”
“An entire hour? You’re such a giver, April.”
She laughed again, the sound echoing around the empty room. She grabbed him by the cuff of his light blue button-down and tugged.
“Come on, let’s get some coffee. The new café is finally operational and I cannot wait for you to see it.”
“You were able to make it happen?” Damien asked.
“Along with the kids and other volunteers, of course. But, yes, we made it happen. Thanks in no small part to donations from generous citizens such as yourself,” she said. She stopped and turned. “Did I tell you that I found a college in northern Mississippi that was replacing all of their string instruments?” She pointed over her shoulder, toward the room they’d just left. “Those violins and the double bass you saw the kids playing? All purchased with the money you donated. I can’t thank you enough, Damien.”
Damien could only hope that her giving spirit would still be there when he brought up the reason for his visit.
“Here it is,” April said as they arrived at the newly installed coffee bar and café.
Damien looked around the room, a grin slowly lifting up the corner of his mouth. The building’s rearmost room had been converted into a small eatery. A long counter ran nearly the entire length of the back wall. Behind it sat an industrial espresso/cappuccino maker and a professional blender. Three stainless steel pump-style coffee dispensers labeled Decaf, Medium Roast and Dark Roast sat on the counter next to glass domes that housed various pastries.
There were five small round tables inside, each with a small vase holding a single bud in their center, and two chairs. Just outside, on the brick patio on the rear eastern side of the building, sat three additional seating areas. There also looked to be a small vegetable garden just beyond it.
“You know, when you called asking for a donation from Alexander Properties to help fund this project, I pictured something that was a step above a lemonade stand. But this is a legitimate coffee shop.” He glanced over at April. “I guess I should have known better. When it comes to April Knight, there’s never any half stepping.”
“You got that right,” April said with a sharp nod, followed by that infectious laugh of hers.
When she’d approached him at the end of last summer with the idea for the café, she told him that she wanted it to serve two purposes. First, she assured him that it would be operated strictly by the youth who attended A Fresh Start and used foremost as a teaching tool, giving the kids practical skills that they could use to hopefully gain employment outside the center. And, second, the money provided from the sales would be used to fund other programs.
Damien purchased two large black coffees, leaving a twenty-dollar tip in the tip jar, then followed April to the lone available table.
“It looks as if you all have a bustling business already,” Damien commented as he sat across from her. “Not an empty seat in the house.”
“It’s a symbiotic relationship. This community needed something like this,” April said. “And the kids love it. We—” She paused, looking beyond Damien. “Hey, Simeon, what’s up?”
Damien looked over his shoulder just as a young guy of about twenty-five or so came upon their table. He wore a plaid shirt and slim jeans with cuffs that rolled up above his ankles.
“Sorry to interrupt,” the guy said. “I just wanted to know what time I’m meeting you at your house.”
A dose of unease slithered through Damien’s bones.
Was April dating this guy? Why hadn’t he considered the possibility that she was in a relationship before coming up with his hastily hatched plan?
“Be there for seven,” April told the youngster.
“Awesome. See you then,” he answered, and then left them.
April took a sip of coffee and said, “Sorry about that. Now, what is it that’s so urgent that it brought you to the Ninth Ward? Don’t think that the significance of this visit escaped my attention. It’s been a long time since you came out this way.”
“Yeah, it has,” Damien said. “First, are you seeing someone?”
Her head jerked back as she released a shocked laugh. “What?”
“You know, romantically,” Damien said. “Are you involved with someone?”
He knew he’d caught her off guard. He and April had been friends since high school, but their love lives were rarely discussed. In fact, Damien couldn’t remember either of them ever overtly bringing up the subject.
“I...uh...” She stumbled. Then shook her head. “No,” she finally answered. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”
Bone-melting relief replaced that earlier unease.
“Great,” Damien said. “Because I have a favor to ask of you. And it’s a big one.”
* * *
April didn’t know what to think as she watched Damien fidget across the table from her. If there was one thing she could usually say about him, it was that he excelled at always appearing to be completely in control.
Not today.
Right now, he seemed unsure. Nervous, even. It was unsettling.
Damien tapped his fingers on the table in an anxious rhythm. “The reason I asked you to meet with me—” he started.
“Hi. Can I get you anything?” Jelissa Cannon, one of the older girls who helped to manage the new café, interrupted.
The teen flashed a huge smile at Damien. Like most of